


Drusilla's Boy

by Morgana



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-29
Packaged: 2017-12-13 09:45:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/822877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morgana/pseuds/Morgana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A look at the life of Spike</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Drusilla

**Author's Note:**

> I'm experimenting with structure again - every chapter will be a different POV of 500 words.

His Mummy loved him so very much. Loved him enough to try to spare him the ugly truth of the death that was waiting for her. I could see it stalking their house when he took me there, sitting in the corner watching them both with big hungry black eyes. His disappearance must have come as a nasty shock for her. I wish I could have seen it, could have watched her cry for him when he didn't come home, but I was too busy becoming a Mummy myself.  
  
Daddy would have liked knowing how very close they were, although he would have said I should have drawn it out more, made them both suffer instead of making it so quick. Patience is something Daddy says I still need to learn. It's just so hard to wait sometimes, especially when the stars whisper at me to hurry, hurry, hurry, there isn't much time. I can't tell Daddy about that, though; he can't hear the stars. I wonder if William will be able to?  
  
Daddy wasn't there when William rose, but I was. I watched him move, squirming and kicking to the sky, and I wanted to help him, but I was good. Babies have to be strong to survive, and when the last one couldn't get out on his own, Daddy was very cross with me. He told me not to make any more, but that was before Grandmother came back. Now he spends all his time with her and last night he said I could make another baby. So I made Willie.  
  
William ran right into us, although he didn't recognize us for what we are. Not to worry, though; most don't see it until right before they die. And he was eager for it, warm and willing and panting as he opened his arms to me. I didn't want it like that, didn't want to be like Daddy, not like he does. Daddy had to teach me, show me how nice it could be, all tea and cakes and starlight. I don't think William's going to have be taught, not like that. He'll have his own lessons, and maybe one day, he can be the teacher.  
  
He's very special, William is. I don't know exactly how, but the stars were most insistent that I make him mine. They said he'll take care of me as long as I don't let him dance with the daylight. Silly stars. Don't they know daylight would turn poor Willie to dust? Honestly, sometimes I think they don't understand anything. I do like the idea of dancing, though, and the stars said William would love to dance.  
  
It's easy to see that my sweet Willie has great things in store for him. I can see him now, shining like a star, burning like the sun. He'll do something amazing, I know he will. I just have to make sure Daddy doesn't kill him before the dance starts; that wouldn't be at all good.


	2. Anne

William stole my heart when he was only a week old. His was a difficult birth, one that nearly claimed my life, so I don't remember much of those first few hours afterward. But when he was just a week old, the nurse placed him in my arms and I looked down at him. He opened his eyes, so blue and beautiful, just like my dear Andrew, and looked right back at me, and at that moment, I fell head over heels in love.  
  
He was a sweet child, so thoughtful and dear, always reading, always trying to learn everything he could. It's true that his poetry lacked the soaring beauty of Keats or the power of Byron, but it was part of him, a way for him to express what was in his heart, and so I loved it for that. And I knew that one day he'd find a woman who could appreciate it and love him the way he deserved. A woman worth quite a bit more than that silly, vain Underhill creature.  
  
I worried when he didn't come home from that party. It wasn't like William to stay out all night like that, and when he finally came home he was acting so very strange that he actually frightened me. He was talking so oddly, saying he'd found a cure for me, and all I could think was that I had failed. I hadn't wanted him to realize just how sick I was, you see. I'd tried to hide it, to pretend that it was nothing, but he'd seen through it. Then the teeth sank into my neck and I realized just what his cure entailed.  
  
Dying didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought it would. Of course, that may be because I didn't actually die, not entirely. There was pain, then blood, but it was more like birth than death, and when it was over I did feel quite a bit stronger. Unfortunately, I wasn't alone in my own body anymore. Indeed, I wasn't the one in charge of it, and that was truly a strange sensation. Still, I could possibly have learned to be a passenger within myself, had the thing that had taken over not done what it did to my boy.  
  
William will never know it, but I saw the thing tear into him. I heard what it said, how it jeered at his poetry and feelings, saw what it tried to do. And I was so very proud of him when he took action and destroyed it, even if it meant my final end on Earth. In those last moments, as the remnants of my body crumbled to dust, I took my last look at William. I hope he doesn't grieve too much over what happened. I hope he knows I'm free now, truly free of the wretched disease that had made my last days such misery.  
  
He's free now, too. Hopefully he'll have a long time to enjoy it.


End file.
